


safeguard

by consumptive_sphinx



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of trauma, Gaslighting, M/M, Solitary Confinement, Torture, Trauma, mindfuckery, time loss, Ósanwe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12584208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/pseuds/consumptive_sphinx
Summary: It is necessary. It is the only way to make Maitimo safe.(After Angband, Maitimo doesn't know his own head anymore.)





	safeguard

Sauron — Sauron had  _ done _ something in Maitimo’s mind, had reached into him and  _ changed _ him, and Maitimo does not know what it was that he had changed. 

He could not be trusted. There was no way of knowing what Sauron had altered, no way of knowing whether he was safe to live near — there were stories of elves who had been released from Angband who slaughtered entire towns once allowed asylum. Maitimo wasn’t safe, would never be safe again. 

Findekáno had rescued him anyway, on the back of an eagle of Manwë, a miracle upon miracles. Findekáno had brought him home and allowed him to stay. Findekáno had listened as Maitimo spoke of having Sauron in his mind, under his skin, and had responded not with “Then we cannot let you in” but “then let us make you safe.” 

Findekáno had looked at Maitimo, who could never have been safe again, and  _ made him safe.  _

 

 

Maitimo does not conceal anything at all from Findekano. 

(“If you hide your thoughts from me, I can’t know to restrain you if it becomes necessary,” Findekano said when Maitimo first woke up in the healers’ hall, when they first discussed how Maitimo could be made safe. Findekáno is wise, and thoughtful, and kind, and correct. Maitimo agreed.) 

It makes it easier, in some ways. Maitimo never has to ask Findekáno for anything, only to want it — “Ask me,” Sauron said, “ask me aloud,” and Maitimo gasped “water, please,  _ please” _ — and Maitimo never needs to thank Findekáno out loud, only to think of how grateful he is — “now say thank you,” Sauron said, while Maitimo was still choking, “you asked for water and now you have it,  _ say thank you.”  _

I love you, Maitimo thinks, I am so grateful, and Findekáno hears. 

 

 

It is not always easy, though it is necessary. 

Findekáno leaves Maitimo alone in a room deep in his stone fortress, with the door locked and his hands tied so that he cannot hurt anyone. He must do this every so often, when he leaves the fortress and cannot stay with Maitimo, or when he has work to do and cannot spare the attention to watch Maitimo's mind, or when he sleeps and could not stop Maitimo if he tried to lash out. It is necessary. It is the only way to make Maitimo safe. 

And Maitimo hates it. 

He doesn't remember his own mind well enough to know if he would have hated it even before, or if this trapped desperation is merely a tool of Sauron, created in him by the Enemy that he would tear at the limits that allow him to be safe. He longs for contact it would be unjustifiably selfish to request, longs for food and water that of course nobody could enter the room to give him. 

He is selfish. He is unjustifiably selfish. He is demanding of Findekáno’s time and attention when there are far more important things to spend it on. He is ungrateful for all the time and attention that Findekáno has already poured into him. He is not worth Findekáno’s time, not worth his effort, not worth his attention, not worth his resources, not worth his love. 

 

 

“How long was it?” Maitimo asks, when Findekáno returns. He always asks. It is selfish but he needs to know — 

Findekáno laughs. “Only an hour, dear heart,” he says, and ruffles through Maitimo's too-short hair. It still hasn't quite grown back from when it was cut in Angband — Maitimo spent his first months of freedom halfway to starvation and healing slowly, and didn’t have the energy to spare for anything other than mending wounds and resetting bones — and Maitimo's scalp hurts when Findekáno touches it. 

Maitimo leans upward into the contact, and then presses his eyes shut, trying to think.

It seemed longer than that, much longer. Maitimo doesn't usually get that hungry in an hour, doesn't get that thirsty in an hour, doesn't get that  _ lonely _ in an hour — 

Findekáno hears the thought, of course. He's always listening to Maitimo's mind, making sure to keep him safe. “Do you not trust me?” he says, and his voice is edged. 

“Of course I trust you,” Maitimo says automatically. 

Findekáno looks down at him, warm but concerned. “You've been having trouble with time,” he says, although it wasn't keeping track of time that was the problem — no. Maitimo trusts Findekáno. “Do you think that's entirely you, or should I look into it?” 

Maitimo goes cold with fear. “I think you should look into it,” he says, knowing that Findekáno will be listening to him closely either way. It is good that Findekáno is here to help, to make sure that he is safe. Any instinct that tells him otherwise is an implant of the Enemy, and it is Maitimo's responsibility to root it out and suppress it until it is no more. 

It was only an hour. Sauron’s influence lies in him still, and Maitimo cannot dig it out — but Findekáno is listening, and Findekáno can make him safe, and that will have to be enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> The first Russingon fic I've ever written and it's this. 
> 
> Happy Halloween!


End file.
